


Six Degrees

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Cambridge Spies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      A last minute fic written because of a persistent plot bunny.  I hope you enjoy!<p>Written for hammerxsword</p>
    </blockquote>





	Six Degrees

**Author's Note:**

> A last minute fic written because of a persistent plot bunny. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Written for hammerxsword

 

 

It said a great deal about the deepness of Anthony's sleep that night. Of course, when one shared a bed with Jackie it wasn't so strange to be woken in such a way. He would often grumble about it later, as if it were some great bother. In turn Jackie would give him a look, whispering scandalising things into his ear about just what they had done and just what Anthony's reactions had been that would send Anthony red, quieting him with a look of his own or a discrete kiss, truly the only way to make him quiet. Jackie knew and he knew. There was no need to say any more.

Of course when the fog of sleep started to lift he realised the man behind him was not so tall as Jackie, the fingers wrapped about him not so lithe, and the smell of liquor... Anthony yelped, pulling away batting at the very drunk Guy Burgess in a place and a state he should not be. Drunken was fine, Anthony almost expected it, but nude in his bed, and with his own body still responding... He tried to not think of that, pulling a sheet to his waist. 

'What are you doing here Guy?" His voice was pitched much higher than it should be, his hand pulled to his shoulder in a nervous gesture.

Guy just grinned, not bothering to hide his own nudity. In fact he stayed sprawled on Anthony's bed, for all purposes like some sort of sculpture... No Anthony would not think these things. 

"I thought I'd see if you were in here. You were," He'd brought a drink of course, the open bottle much easier to carry than a glass, or so he told himself as he drank from it, holding it out to Anthony. "We were playing this game earlier. Silly game really. Six degrees of Seperation? Where if I've fucked Jackie and Jackie's fucked you..." Very drunk indeed, taking another drink before holding it out to his friend. "I might as well have just fucked you. Mad isn't it."

"Yes. Very." Anthony spoke flatly, ignoring the proffered bottle. "You're drunk."

The look Guy gave him was one that one gave an idiot, or a child. "Obviously. Or I wouldn't be here telling you this, would I?" He put the bottle down as he stood, still looking far too amused for Anthony's comfort. 

"What do you want Guy?" He didn't sound as tired as he'd intended, in fact he almost sounded nervous. No, that was mad. It the absurdity of the situation and the mask of sleep still upon him.

Yet Guy heard the uncertainty and pounced upon it, tugging at the sheet Anthony held, "This hides less of your virtue than you'd think," he added dryly. "As for what I want, you can't tell? And you call yourself a homosexual."

"What I call myself is tired Guy, and if you are done with this silliness, I'd appreciate..."

He hadn't expected Guy to kiss him. Even less had he expected himself to not struggle against it and to return the kiss, the sheet soon lost on the floor, the two of them tumbling to the bed. 

There was no time to talk, it barely seemed there was time to breathe. Guy's hands knew what they were doing, as did Anthony's. At one point, with Guy's tongue and teeth and mouth on him, the thought flew through his mind if that was where Jackie had learned that one trick. The thought fled as quickly as it had appeared, simple longing replacing it. 

It was only when Guy slid inside of him, slowly at first, but pressing more each moment, he realised his eyes were closed. That they'd been closed most of this time not wanting to see who this was, not wanting to admit it, not really. Anthony opened them then, meeting Guy's own, seeing the other's face as he came, finally finishing himself, choking out Guy's name.

He must have fallen asleep again, but when he awoke, it wasn't Guy nude in the bed with him, but Jackie, as it should be. No bottle on the ledge, no trace of the other at all. Anthony shook his head, wondering if perhaps he was coming down with some sort of fever.

It was the safest explanation. 

 


End file.
